


Struck

by DapperSkull



Category: Ben 10 Series
Genre: Deepthroating, Fisticuffs, Foe Yay, Follows Canon very loosely, Kinktober, M/M, Verbal Humiliation, verry loosely
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-05
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-07-25 12:32:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16197620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DapperSkull/pseuds/DapperSkull
Summary: So long as he stands in his way, Eon will forever hate him. He loathes Paradox. There is nothing more.





	Struck

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Kinktober!! I actually meant to try a prompt a day but I sort of fell behind and I only did this one :^( oh Well!!  
> Uh This isn't set during any particular time.

There was so much time on his hands that, if he really wanted to, he could count every single tile on the black and white checkered floor of the diner. Could but didn’t, as much as he so loved pointless things. But pointlessness for the sake of relieving boredom. In this case, it wouldn’t help much of anything at all.

Professor Paradox was the only occupant of the diner. Well, him and the staff which consisted of a cook, caught in the process of flipping a burger and a waitress who was clearing off the bar table. Who was forever stuck clearing off that table for as long as he willed it. The Jukebox continued to play, the only thing permitted to move in the establishment, but only to a point. It would reach the end of a particular song then loop back around to the beginning. End. Restart. End. Restart. And so it went on like that.

Being displaced from the timestream had its downsides but he’d spent enough of his immortality being burdened by them so rather than fixating on the negatives, nowadays ( _days,_ for lack of a better word) he took joy where he could find it.

Besides--

 

“Didn’t peg you as a sentimental old fool.” An icy voice cut into his train of thought.

 

\--lately, he was quite entertained.  

 

He didn’t put up a fight as the speaker yanked him out of the booth he was seated at. Paradox was gripped by the back of his lab coat, dragged away from the red leather seats, and slammed face first into the bar table. He grunted at the unnecessary, barbaric tactic at roughing him up. It was actually just immature.

 

Here was the truth.

 

  
Paradox didn’t want it any other way.

 

After he had come to terms with his immortality, after being driven cripplingly mad by it, what followed was… dissatisfaction. It was a feeling akin to finishing a good book and then being left with nothing more. His life had concluded, leaving him without purpose. An anticlimax.

 

And then _he_ came into being.

 

There were two points in time barred to the professor, places he could not venture to: The Beginning and The End. But then _he_ swept in like a force of nature that could have fooled Paradox into believing he was watching The Birth Of the Universe. Because it was the beginning of many things for him, and every time he and Eon collided, he could swear he was watching The End.

 

The Climax: the most intense, most important, heart throbbing portion of any good book. This is what Eon was.

 

“Sentiment, no.” Paradox denied, wincing when his arm was twisted behind his back. True, this _was_ the American diner he formerly visited with a colleague of his, back when ties still tethered him to his world. But he was not the same man as the professor who presumably died in a tragic lab accident of the 50’s.

 

“Why are you here, Eon? Come to beat an old man?”

 

Pressure. Eon’s fingers gripped his forearm tighter.

 

Oh, he knew very well why. Eon was childish. He was petty and temperamental enough to want to get even with him. That’s what this was really about. Getting Even.

 

“You aren’t going to get sympathy from me.” Eon informed through his teeth, “Don't play defenseless.”

  
His arm was throbbing under his touch. If he wanted to, he could speed up healing time. But the pain was something he _wanted._ He knew that Eon would come for him, it was only a matter of when.

 

With the grip he had on his arm, his enemy flung him into a different table. It went crashing along with him, spilling condiments and shattering plates on top of him. He wheezed, _feeling_ the burn sharply at his spine. It was lovely.

 

“That look suits you. Trash.” Eon’s helmet lifted. His cheeks were a healthy color, not graying in the process of decay. Sometimes, he would arrive in such a state. His appearance was constantly fluctuating, unable to hold onto a single form.

 

“Why have you come? _Really?_ ” Paradox inquired, tilting his head at him. He had the free time and opportunity to strategize a next plan of action against him and his alternate counterparts. Instead, he’d come straight to him.

 

There was confusion in Eon’s green eyes, as well as he otherwise hid it. As if he wanted to say ‘ _I’m here to kick the everloving shit out of you and I could not possibly be any more obvious about that you absolute imbecile.’_

 

“Chance a guess, Professor.” He snarled, swinging a kick into his side. Swiftly, he was sent skidding across the tile floor and groaned, curling onto his side. He couldn’t help the way his eyes darkened, so he only peered up at him through his lashes. He didn't dare meet his eyes directly and reveal… a very _human_ lust. He hadn’t felt so mortal in so long.

 

“Why ask?” He taunted, striding to close the distance he himself had put between them. Eon stopped directly in front of him, looming over him. He seemed to stand taller than he actually was, conjuring a blade of energy at his wrist.

 

But then, his brows rose in faint realization after examining him closely a few seconds, lips twitching with the threat of laughter, “Oh… Oh, that is _precious_. You were hoping for something else.”

 

Something _more_ than the fight and bloodshed their encounters usually ended in.

 

Paradox was no longer glancing up at him from the corners of his eyes. Shamefully, he averted them to the black and white floor he was curled up on, smiling wryly as if he could defend himself with self deprecation.  

 

“Ah. So I’ve been found out.”

 

Paradox could only watch as, finally, he _did_ laugh at him. It wasn’t a laugh that meshed well with the soft, gentle notes of the song streaming from the speakers of the Jukebox. It was a biting, scathing laugh.

 

“What a sad sight.” He announced once he was done laughing, and yes. Paradox had to agree. He must make a very sad sight.

 

“Is that how it is, Paradox? Nobody to fill your lonely hours save your worst enemy?”

  
Paradox tensed at his words. Eon was teasing at the edges of an unfortunately sensitive subject.

 

“Come then, Professor. I'll give you something to pine after.” His torturer goaded him, beckoning him closer with a finger. His hips jutted forward in invitation. How could he _possibly_ say no to him?

 

Paradox moved up onto his knees, shifting toward the man. He felt warmer, hands finding place at Eon’s hips, gripping onto the material of his clothing. Tentatively, Paradox’s mouth hovered over his clothed erection. He could feel his own breath, hotter somehow, and then fingers coming to tangle in his hair.

 

“Get on with it.”

 

“Yes, I’m sure you’d like that.”

 

He shoved down the material of Eon’s pants, letting it fall onto the floor, using one palm to take hold of his hip once more. The other circled around Eon’s flagging erection, making the man hiss above him. A smug smirk curved its way onto his face, which wasn't well received, judging from the way fingernails dug punishingly into his scalp.

 

“Wipe that look off of your face.”

 

Paradox only snorted. It wasn't the kind of thing a person should say to someone holding them in hand. Eon was really at his mercy.

 

Tilted forward, he sucked the head of Eon’s cock in his mouth. The man above him made a gruff sound in his throat, and he took that as encouragement, working his length further passed his lips. With ease, he let his cock slide into the wetness of his mouth, and couldn't say that he didn't enjoy the warm weight, sliding heavy against his tongue.

 

Eon hissed, arching forward so suddenly that Paradox was forced to swallow against him. He hadn't anticipated that motion, and might have gagged if he didn't have a good grip on Eon’s side. His fingers sunk into the flesh of his hip, surely leaving little indentations there.

 

But the next time, he was prepared. At the second jerk of Eon’s hips, the professor was leaning in, forced to part his lips wider to accommodate him as he took him to the hilt. He’d have preferred to enjoy exploring, but clearly Eon had other plans. Gripping him by the hair still, Eon gave a deep,  inconsiderate thrust into his throat, taking his own pleasure with a groan of satisfaction.

 

The professor moaned at the slick slide of his cock, pulling and pushing back hotly into his mouth at a rough pace. All he could do was kneel and take it as Eon decided on the rhythm, using him with the intent to ruin.

 

He choked once when Eon’s hips stuttered and he hit up against his throat. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, and saliva began pooled at his jaw.

 

“So pathetically alone,” Paradox spat, his thrusts were relentless, brutal, “all you have is me, and you know that, don’t you, Paradox?"

 

He _did_ know that--

 

He couldn’t breathe, desperately trying draw in oxygen through his nose. Squeezing his eyes shut, he felt the tears of exertion finally and slowly roll down his face. Eon’s fingers carded through his hair, gripping a handful at the base of his skull.

 

\-- and he knew that eventually, every single thing was going to die. One day, the death of the universe was _truly_ going to arrive, and the only other person who would be left standing there to watch it with him was Eon.

 

Paradox isn’t religious, but he imagines that hell is an eternity forever lusting after someone who hated you. Even so, he felt whole. It wasn’t love, and he didn’t have a name for the emotion burning in his chest, but it was born out of longing, a loneliness that preceded Eon’s arrival.

 

That’s why he was allowing this. Why Paradox was always only ever amused by their battles. Why he held onto Eon tightly as the man fucked into his mouth, pumping faster, taking, and taking. As if he could take his losses out in this way.

 

Finally, he was let go, but even then Eon only sought to humiliate him. He pulled out of his mouth, a wet squelch following the action, but didn’t release Paradox from the grip he had on him. Instead, his hand moved to grip his jaw, driving a thumb between his lips, forcing them to part.

 

He took himself in his free hand, fingers gliding along his shaft. Paradox didn’t bother trying to move, and could only hold himself at the angle Eon kept him in. He watched the man stroke himself, the pearls of precum gathering at the head, and couldn’t help the way his tongue poked out in anticipation, brushing against the tip of his thumb.

 

Eon’s eyes darkened, sucking in a breath through his clenched teeth at the action. His hand began to pump more roughly, his hips rocking forward, fucking into the tight circle of his fist until he was cumming.

 

An embarrassed flush crept to Paradox’s face when it hit his awaiting mouth. Eon spilled onto his face, another sound of pleasure rumbling low in his chest. Dimly, Paradox thought that he should be disgusted at being treated in this manner, but only arousal stirred low within him. He was turned on.

  
“Suits you.” Eon pulled away, repeating what he had said earlier. Paradox was freed to move as the other man began to redress, but he chose to remain kneeling, licking at the seed coating the corners of his lips.

 

Eon turned away from him at once, but from what the professor could see, the tips of his ears were bright red.

 

“Isn’t this… Isn’t this much better than fighting, Eon?”

 

He only received an amused chuckle in response, “Is this your way of hoping I’ll turn over a new leaf and begin to like you? You’re _sorely_ mistaken. Take a look at yourself. You look like a joke.”

 

“Ah.” Paradox made a sound of realization, lightly asking, “So I take it you’re not going to return the favor.”

 

It was a joke, but his enemy wasn’t laughing. He didn’t even twitch, but there _was_ a pause from him. And then--

 

“Paradox. There is nobody I loathe more than you. Do not forget that simply because you happen to be a glutton for humiliation.”

 

\--and then he was gone.

 

 _‘How could I forget?’_ Paradox didn’t get the chance to say to him.

 

It was his own personal hell.


End file.
